


Sleepless Nights

by Nux



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Chubby Jesse, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hanzo is the best boyfriend, M/M, McCree is a broken cowman, Mild Self-Loathing, Mild Sexual Content, Self-Esteem Issues, also yes McCree sleeps naked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-23 10:55:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8325094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nux/pseuds/Nux
Summary: 2 AM thoughts and feelings -- Jesse worries because he doesn't look 25 anymore and Hanzo sets him straight





	

**Author's Note:**

> As always, a super thank you to the best beta in the world, [Midnightluck](http://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightluck)!
> 
> Heavily inspired by [jamzenn](http://jamzenn.tumblr.com/post/150840126492/you-are-perfect-jesse-i-bet-that-mccree-is)'s art!

“What are you doing?”

 

A few seconds of silence passes before Jesse turns around and offers Hanzo nothing more than a shrug; it doesn’t convey the inner turmoil of the gunslinger, but Jesse notices that Hanzo isn’t buying his weak attempt to play it off as nothing.

 

“It’s two am, Jesse.”

 

He’s well aware, but despite that, he turns to look at the digital clock with the bright red numbers glaring back at him angrily. “...Did I wake ya?” He watches as Hanzo shakes his head, and hears the soft huff escaping him and how he pats the empty space next to him on the bed. Jesse’s gaze lingers for a second, trails from the amber gaze that is Hanzo’s and then down that chest; not an ounce fat on it. Quickly, his gaze drops to the empty space on the bed instead.

 

“Jesse?”

 

“Sorry.”

 

There’s a faint rustling of fabric, quiet in the stillness of the night and he listens to the footsteps as they near him; they’re even quieter than normal, without amour. Jesse shifts his gaze again and he looks back to the mirror in front of him -- his own, tired eyes stare back at him. There’s dark circles from nights spent awake and from hours spent on missions. His beard, unkempt and frizzy, looks like it’s begging him to cut it off instead. He sighs and the sound is heavy this time. He doesn’t dare to trail his gaze lower because he  _ knows  _ what’s waiting there; knows he hasn’t exactly been taking care of himself lately. Hell, he hasn’t been taking care of himself for the past years, even.

 

“Jesse.” His name is spoken so softly; a quiet whisper against the shell of his ear with the gentle scratch of a neatly trimmed beard against his neck. Jesse leans back against the touch, his back resting against the solid warmth of Hanzo’s chest. He swallows thickly, jealousy tugging at him stupidly.   
  
“Sorry, Han, I’ll come back to bed--”

 

He’s cut off by a pair of hands on his hips, hanging low and cupping what had once been jutting hipbones. Jesse knew that now, one had to prod pretty good to actually feel those bones.

 

Hanzo moves against his neck; there’s a soft kiss just below his ear and then the archer speaks up again, voice soft and hushed, “Is this what you are worrying about?”

 

He could lie. Could say he had had a nightmare -- it wouldn’t be a lie, per se, as they rolled around often, but staring back into the mirror and seeing Hanzo’s gentle gaze on him, amber eyes offering him that soothing look -- he can’t lie. He nods, albeit slowly, and doesn’t dare to utter a word.

 

“Jesse, my love, you have nothing to worry about.”

 

He feels the drag of Hanzo’s beard against his neck again, soft yet coarse. He doesn’t mind it, rather welcomes it and melts into Hanzo’s gentle touches -- can’t understand  _ why  _ Hanzo would offer him this…gentleness and compassion. He swallows thickly and turns around in the slight embrace, leaning back against the porcelain counter behind him instead. The coldness of it has him inhale sharply but he ignores it and keeps his gaze on Hanzo. “I know. I’m bein’ stupid; sorry for wakin’ ya, darlin’.”

 

Jesse watches how Hanzo furrows his brow, a sharp look on his face suddenly. He doesn’t look pleased and, momentarily, Jesse worries he’s said something stupid, rather than just being stupid. He opens his mouth to speak but--

 

“Your worries are valid, Jesse. You are not stupid for simply feeling a certain way.” 

 

Jesse watches as Hanzo leans forward and sighs softly when he feels the soft press of lips against his collarbone and the soft drag of Hanzo’s beard. “You’re too darn nice, Han,” Jesse mumbles and lets a pathetic laugh escape him in an effort to cover up the sudden attention to his body.

 

The kisses along his collarbone stops and the warmth disappears as Hanzo leans away; straightens up again to meet his gaze. “I am your _lover_ , Jesse.”

 

“Doesn’t mean ya have to be nice.”

 

The words earn him a look he could only describe as  _ ‘dare to say that again and I’ll kick your ass’ _ . 

 

“Are you that much of an oaf, Jesse? I am not nice because I  _ have  _ to be. I am nice because I  _ care  _ for you.”

 

“Even when I look like this?”

 

Another pinched expression, accompanied with an exasperated sigh. Jesse knew he should probably shut up right about now, but it had been bothering for some time; the fact was, he didn’t look like he was twenty-five anymore. The rational part of him knew it was stupid -- he wasn’t twenty-five years old anymore but he couldn’t help it. It  _ wasn’t  _ rational.

 

“There is nothing wrong with the way you look.”

 

He huffed, the sound loud and tired, only feeling more stupid the longer he stood there. He wished he hadn’t gotten up earlier and that he didn’t worry about his appearance as much as he did.

 

“Jesse McCree, what will it take for you to understand that I love you, no matter what?”

 

The gunslinger shrugged, tired and angry with himself for starting an argument in the middle of the night when he knew they both needed whatever sleep they could get. He should’ve known better; instead, he had made them both irritated. He was just about to push away from the counter and shoulder past Hanzo to flee their shared room for a much needed smoke when he felt surprisingly soft palms on his chest, stopping him mid-motion. He found that amber gaze again and he stared tiredly at the man, a sigh escaping him.

 

“I will make you understand, then.”

 

It was all the warning he got before Hanzo leant in again and pressed a chaste kiss to his jaw; kissing along the shaggy beard and then lower, following the tendons in his neck. The kisses were soft and gentle -- a barely there pressure. Like butterfly wings against his marred skin. He couldn’t help but laugh -- though there wasn’t an ounce of amusement in the laugh -- at the softness and gentleness he was treated with. “I’m no blushin’ virgin, Han. Don’t have to treat me like I’m some delicate flower.”

 

The kisses ceased just above his collarbone; Jesse could see Hanzo inhale deeply. Irritation rolling off the archer in waves.

 

“Silence, Jesse. You will not call ‘the shots’ now. You will take what I give you.”

 

A sudden spark of  _ interest  _ rushed down his spine at those words, grit out and harsh despite the gentleness Hanzo was giving him.

 

“Yes sir.”

 

He earned a satisfied sound at that and then the kisses continued, soft and gentle along his collarbone. Jesse breathed through his nose as his lips parted slightly, head tilted to watch Hanzo as the man worked lower on his chest, kisses trailing downwards. The archer passed a nipple and Jesse inhaled -- it prompted Hanzo to pause and kiss the nipple, drag his tongue lazily against the nub until it peaked, lavishing it with attention. Jesse groaned softly, a hand gripping at the porcelain counter behind him to steady himself.

 

“Han--” 

 

Teeth grazed his nipple, a warning to keep his mouth shut. The gunslinger nodded immediately, despite Hanzo not being able to see it, and leant back heavily against the counter, the other hand gripping the edge of it too. Heat pooled low in the pit of his stomach as Hanzo switched to his other nipple, giving hit the same treatment as the first one. He felt the flat of Hanzo's tongue against it, followed by a soft kiss; Jesse swallowed thickly as his nipple was released, cold air hitting sensitive skin. He wanted to say  _ something _ , but refrained from it, only humming lowly.

 

There were hands on his hips, holding him steady. The kisses trailed lower, stopping briefly at every scar that marred his skin; the long gash from a bar fight where a broken bottle had slashed through both clothes and flesh, the numerous bullet wounds that littered parts of his tanned skin. He sighed softly, swallowed again and shifted against the counter, a throbbing need filling him as he watched Hanzo travel down his body in a slow manner. The lower the archer went, the shorter Jesse's breaths became and when Hanzo reached his navel, only stuttered breaths escaped him. 

 

“You are perfect, Jesse. Just the way you are.”

 

Jesse watched as Hanzo lowered himself, how the man kneeled in front of him and the gunslinger had to close his eyes for a second, a rushed breath escaping him.

 

“Every scar…” Jesse felt the callouses of Hanzo's hand against his abdomen, how his fingertips traced a scar that ran from his navel to his hips, an ugly gash that had healed badly and become distorted with time. 

 

He breathed heavily, knees going weak as he trusted the porcelain counter behind him with his life.

 

“Every mark…” he heard, rather than saw it, as Hanzo shifted of the floor and leant forward to press a kiss to his thigh; a cluster of freckles. Jesse gripped the counter tighter, hoping it wouldn't break under his pressure.

 

“Everything…” came the low exhale again and Hanzo shifted before him, the next kiss pressed against the softness of his abdomen; it had Jesse clenching his eyes tightly together again and swallowing thickly. 

 

“About…” soft lips traveled lower; Jesse felt the archer kiss down his happy trail, the gentleness making his chest ache while his cock throbbed, begging for attention.

 

“You…” the kisses stopped just atop the root of his cock; Jesse's stomach did a somersault and his knees caved some as a rushed breath escaped him. 

 

“Is…” rough hands slide up his thighs, warm and gentle as they finds his hips again, fingertips pressing into his soft skin -- soft where it had been pulled taut in his younger years. 

 

“Perfect.” Hanzo ends his sentence with a slow kiss to the tip of his cock and then proceeds to lavish his heated skin with butterfly soft kisses, each of them a gentle drag of lips.

 

A loud groan tears its way through him at that and he lets his head tip back in pleasure; one hand shakily leaving the counter in favour of winding itself tight in Hanzo's dark tresses and tugging gently, urging the man to move  _ closer. _

 

Hanzo doesn't. Instead, the man pulls away entirely and stands up, a sly smirk on his lips and a mischievous look in his eyes as he backs away even more.

 

“Why don't you come back to bed, and I'll show you just how perfect I think you are?”

 

A heartbeat is all it takes, and a stuttered breath and a groan. “Yessir--!” 

 

It's a rushed exclamation and Hanzo laughs at him, sweet and gentle, a sound Jesse loves dearly and wishes he could hear for the next fifty years to come.

  
He follows Hanzo back to the bedroom, most of his previous worries all thrown away as the door to the bathroom falls shut behind them, locking away every ill thought he had had.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and such is always welcome! ♥


End file.
